His course had now become one of aimless wandering; for prudence still forbade his return to Pianura, and his patron’s indifference left him free to come and go as he chose.  He had brought from Rome—­that albergo d’ira—­a settled melancholy of spirit, which sought refuge in such distractions as the moment offered.  In such a mood change of scene was a necessity, and he resolved to employ the next months in visiting several of the mid-Italian cities.  Toward Florence he was specially drawn by the fact that Alfieri now lived there; but, as often happens after such separations, the reunion was a disappointment.  Alfieri, indeed, warmly welcomed his friend; but he was engrossed in his dawning passion for the Countess of Albany, and that lady’s pitiable situation excluded all other interests from his mind.  To Odo, to whom the years had brought an increasing detachment, this self-absorption seemed an arrest in growth; for Alfieri’s early worship of liberty had not yet found its destined channel of expression, and for the moment his enthusiasms had shrunk to the compass of a romantic adventure.  The friends parted after a few days of unsatisfying intercourse; and it was under the influence of this final disenchantment that Odo set out for Venice.

It was the vintage season, and the travellers descended from the Apennines on a landscape diversified by the picturesque incidents of the grape-gathering.  On every slope stood some villa with awnings spread, and merry parties were picnicking among the vines or watching the peasants at their work.  Cantapresto, who had shown great reluctance at leaving Monte Alloro, where, as he declared, he found himself as snug as an eel in a pasty, was now all eagerness to press forward; and Odo was in the mood to allow any influence to decide his course.  He had an invaluable courier in Cantapresto, whose enormous pretensions generally assured him the best lodging and the fastest conveyance to be obtained, and who was never happier than when outwitting a rival emissary, or bribing a landlord to serve up on Odo’s table the repast ordered in advance for some distinguished traveller.  His impatience to reach Venice, which he described as the scene of all conceivable delights, had on this occasion tripled his zeal, and they travelled rapidly to Padua, where he had engaged a burchiello for the passage down the Brenta.  Here, however, he found he had been outdone at his own game; for the servant of an English Duke had captured the burchiello and embarked his noble party before Cantapresto reached the wharf.  This being the season of the villeggiatura, when the Venetian nobility were exchanging visits on the mainland, every conveyance was in motion and no other boat to be had for a week; while as for the “bucentaur” or public bark, which was just then getting under way, it was already packed to the gunwale with Jews, pedlars and such vermin, and the captain swore by the three thousand relics of Saint Justina that he had no room on board for so much as a hungry flea.